


Scoria

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Friendship, Adoption, Dragon Eggs, Family, Family Fluff, Flaming Son, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Temparate Family, dragon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 20:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7478898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first memory Jax has is his father's dying battle cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scoria

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OwlFlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlFlight/gifts).



> I'm so bad at surprises I'M SO SORRY

Jefferson Jackson is his name. By the time he's matured enough in his egg to remember things, he couldn't tell you how he knew that much, or that the gentle accented voice was his mother, and the voice that's both hardened and soft was his father.

But he knows for certain that his first real memory's not a cherished one. While the muddled tones of his parents are in a happy gossamer bubble of early development, his father's dying roar is stark reality.

Jax—that's what his mother calls a 'nickname', one she likes calling him—can't smell much yet, but he can hear. Tucked safe and warm in his shell is torture, when everything in him screams to break out and  _fight_. Thunderous rain seems to pummel everything but him, and its hailstorm makes countless men and women cry out in what he can label as  _pain_ thanks to a dark spot in his distant happy bubble. His mom urgently whispers to him, telling him to be strong, that she'll be right back, before wingbeats take her away.

 _Nurse_ , his bubble chirps. As for his dad,  _Soldier_.

That should mean something, probably related to the fighting spirit rearing in Jax's tiny body. But he can't escape the shell yet; he can't say why, but he just knows he can't. And it's awful.

Then his dad's roar is vibrating over his shell, and his mother's scream quakes through his limited senses.

Something has happened.

* * *

"Your Daddy's gone," Jax's mother murmurs to him. Her tone is hitched, pained. "I'm—I'm so sorry, baby."

She starts making strange noises. Jax tries to make a sound, a soothing something that he's heard during his bubble. Nothing comes out.

He learns another word:  _agony_.

* * *

The thunder, Jax comes to realize, is called  _bullets_. He should've known; real rain doesn't sound half so frightening.

Not that he's scared or anything. He's gotta be strong. That's important, being strong, even though he doesn't know how, confined in his shell as he is.

He tries anyway, twitching his membranes and kicking his paws. What he's fighting, he couldn't say. But he's acting strong, he thinks, and that's important, being strong.

* * *

Another bubble forms, slimmer and darker. It forms after his mother roars just like his dad did. After she's  _gone_.

( _Bullets_. Jax doesn't like them.)

The bubble pops in a burst of cold-hot nudging his shell, the intensity of two opposite temperatures side by side enough to make Jax twitch again.

He didn't realize how vacant Outside was until a voice fills the gaping silence: " _Oh_."

Another voice says, "What're we gonna do? Can't just leave it."

"No, I suppose we can't."

Something rumbles. It's not the thunder of rain or bullets. Jax listens closely, trying to identify it. His gossamer bubble coos  _Daddy_.

But that's not Dad. Dad's gone. This one, though,  _feels_ like he did. Different, sure, yet definitely  _Daddy_.

Jax tries to reply. Outside, Warm-Dad makes a noise.

"No," Cold-Strange says again, harder, "we can't leave it."

Suddenly, Jax's shell is encased in molten heat. His membranes kick forward, pressing against it as much as he can.

"Don't worry kid," Warm-Dad tells him, "we gotcha."

* * *

Jax instinctively registers  _flight_ and  _ground_ soon enough. Warm-Dad and Cold-Familiar are in  _flight_ for forever. But that's okay, because Warm-Dad's heat is comfy. He'll stay right here until he's so big in his shell that he's forced to burst from it.

Yet when they  _ground_ , Jax's still squishy in his shell.

Cold-Familiar changes, though.

He's making noises now. Not that he hasn't before; his voice dominated most of  _flight_ , a pleasant background noise as Jax basked in Warm-Dad's hold, but these are different.

"Hey sis," he's saying, and the words call up another word from the happy bubble:  _love_.

Warm-Dad tells Jax, "This is Lisa. She's Lenny's sister."

A soft  _ka-lunk_ , and then there's a tap against his shell. Another egg.

Cold-Familiar continues his loving rumbles. Nestmate presses against her own shell. She's much older than Jax if she can tap over and over like that.

"Aw, Lenny," Warm-Dad says, "she likes 'em."

There's  _love_ in his voice too. They are clan?

Nestmate trills. Cold-Familiar trills back. Warm-Dad curls around both eggs.

Yes. They are clan. Then Cold-Familiar must be Dad too. Two Dads; how fun!

"You look good with our eggs," Cold-Dad says. There's something strange in his voice, but nothing bad.

Warm-Dad rumbles. "Not in front 'a the kids, Snart."

Cold-Dad makes another noise before returning to his loving sounds over Nestmate.

Another happy bubble forms.

* * *

Jax's next clear memory is blurry. Not that way—he can hear perfectly well. No, it's...well, it's strange. When he moves something, strange blurry things happen.

"Shell's softer," Warm-Dad says, "think they're seein' stuff yet?"

Seein'? What's seein'?

"Maybe," Cold-Dad says. "They can definitely hear."

Quiet. Then, Cold-Dad says, "Lisa will be out soon."

"Yeah," Warm-Dad says, loving, "I give it a week, if that."

Cold-Dad makes a happy noise. Nestmate tap-tap-taps. Jax likes it here.

* * *

Nestmate hatches. She makes lots of snuffling and trills.

Cold-Dad's love seeps through Jax's shell. "Hey, Lisey."

She makes more sounds. They form a loud, "L-L-Lenny!"

Warm-Dad laughs. He tells Jax, "You should see Len's face, kid. He is  _gone_."

Gone?  _Gone_?

No! No, no, no, Cold-Dad can't be gone!

Jax kicks. His shell is tough, but he can't let Cold-Dad be gone. He was just here, making noises! He has to be—he can't—

"Whoa-whoa-whoa!" Warm-Dad says, "What're you doing, kid? Stop that!"

Jax  _won't_ stop. If Cold-Dad is gone, he'll get him  _back_! He can do it now, he  _knows_ he can! He  _has to_!

Everything's blurry, but it'll get better once he's out. Jax doesn't know what Cold-Dad looks like, but he'll find him. He  _will_.

And then, all of a sudden, cold suffuses his shell.

"You're not old enough," that's Cold-Dad,  _not gone_ , "you'll get your chance, but Lisa's the only one who can be out right now, so settle down."

He's here. He's here! Jax makes as much noise as he can, trying to let him know that he is  _so happy_ to have Cold-Dad not gone. Why did Warm-Dad say that? Not nice of him. When he feels Warm-Dad's heat, he makes another noise, the kind Nestmate used when she was unhappy.

"Wha—" Warm-Dad says, "hey!"

Nestmate trills. She presses against Jax's shell. After a moment, she says, "He's not happy with Mick. He wants to stay with Lenny."

Yes. Good Nestmate.

"You're welcome!" she chirps.

"Why? I didn't do nothin'!" Warm-Dad says loudly, "Besides, Snart's too cold to incubate 'im!"

"He wants to stay with Lenny," Nestmate says harder. " _I_ can keep him warm."

Cold-Dad finally talks. "Lise, you're like me. We're both too cold."

Nestmate wraps around Jax's shell as best she can. Yes, she  _is_ cold, but that's okay; Jax can handle it. 

"Ah, hell," Warm-Dad says quietly, "what do we do?"

Cold-Dad hums. "Guess we'll get some blankets. What did you say?"

"I told you, nothin'! All I told him was how gone you were over Lisa!"

 _Gone_? No! Cold-Dad just got back!

"He doesn't like that word!" Nestmate says loudly.

"What word?" Cold-Dad asks.

"The  _g-word_."

Warm-Dad snuffles. "The g-wor—gone?"

Jax kicks as hard as he can. He's happy to say he makes a nice  _thunk_ , although there's pain in his membranes after. Daddy's gone; Mom's gone. No one else is gonna be gone!

"It's okay," Nestmate says quietly, "we won't go away."

Cold-Dad says, " _Mick_. A word."

Jax hears them talk, though they sound farther away:

"He remembers his parents dying," Cold-Dad says.

" _Shit_ , yeah, I got that," Warm-Dad says, "I didn't mean to, Lenny, I swear."

" _Obviously_. Question is, how're you gonna apologize?"

"Does he even know what that is, d'you think?"

"We found him buried on a  _battlefield_ , Mick. I think he knows a lotta things."

Warm-Dad rumbles unhappily. "Yeah. Give 'im today with you. He'll need it after I fucked up. We could wrap 'im in the furs I got?"

Cold-Dad hums. Later, Jax is wrapped in warmth and nestled against cold. There's a steady  _thumping_ against his shell, and he finds that he quite enjoys the sound.

"Heartbeat," Cold-Dad says, "that's mine. Long as that's goin', you know I'm here. Got it?"

Jax settles. Nestmate says, "He loves you very much."

Cold-Dad doesn't do anything. Then, Jax feels a gentle bump against his shell.

Nestmate lies next to him. This is good.

* * *

Cold-Dad likes to  _read_. That's what he calls it, anyway. He reads a lot to Jax and Nestmate. Between reading and heartbeat, Jax is very happy. Everything's a faint kind of bubble now, blurry and nice.

So he  _supposes_ he can like Warm-Dad again.

"I didn't know, kid. I won't say it again, and you let me warm you up. Deal?"

Nestmate says, "He'll let you take him back.  _Finally_ ," she says to Jax, "'cause Lenny was  _mine_ first!"

Warm-Dad curls around him with a happy noise. Later, things aren't so blurry anymore. His own thumping feels better too.

This is good.

* * *

Eventually, Jax's membranes harden, scales and talons growing. His wings stretch into being, and his eyes can register the inside of his shell. He thinks it should be dark, but he can see clearly: his talons, black, against his brown scales that have starbursts of reds and oranges, and the insides of his egg, smooth and creamy.

"You're gonna come out soon, kid," Mick murmurs, poking his snout at Jax's egg, "your egg's gotten soft enough."

Damn right. Jax can finally see what his dads and sister  _look like_. That'll be nice.

No, no, wait: that'll be  _cool_.

Jax snorts.

"Yeah," Mick hums, "you'll be awesome."

And he'll finally be able to talk to them too. Having a nestmate helps with translation, but he hears Lisa go flying with Len almost all the time now, making that a little difficult. But Mick's warm—Warm-Dad—so it's alright.

"Your outer layer's what drew me to you, y'know," Mick says, "you looked like a volcanic rock. I had an egg like that too."

He and Len don't talk much about how they found Jax. All Jax knows for sure is that they found him on a battlefield, that he'd responded to Mick (and he remembers that part), and now that his protective shell, probably shed by now so close to his hatching, looked like a "volcanic rock."

Jax'd like to see what that means. He'll wait 'til Len and Lisa get back, though. They're clan; it's only right.

As if sensing his plan, wingbeats whisper in the distance. Len and Lisa glide home. Here we go.

Jax pushes against his shell—"Mick. Hide him."

...whoops.

"Shit, Lenny, he's hatching."

Lisa huffs, "Oh come on!"

Unfortunately, Jax can't stop now. Once you've cracked, you never go back, and all. Best thing he can do is break out as fast as he can. Meanwhile, through the small cracks he's made, he can see an orange underbelly that emanates a familiar heat. Gotta say, Jax'd rather have another view for a first sight.

He scrambles from his shell in a mess of flailing limbs and quiet grunts. Pretty sure he also coughs a few flames, but Mick doesn't seem to notice. A gold body wriggles to him and snatches him to a dragon made of snow white jutting icicles and small, narrow eyes. A sharp wing of thick dark blue webbing encases him in a cold protective shield.

The gold dragon's pale eyes settle on Jax as Len's wing accommodates her too. "You sure have bad timing, sweetie," she hisses, frost puffing from her nostrils.

Jax ducks his head sheepishly. "Sorry," he whispers back.

More wingbeats. Another dragon has landed in their—actually pretty nice, is that a pile of gold?—cave. Jax peeks under the minute opening under Len's wing to get a look: he's grey all over, with a bushy white beard under his chin, long in the front and short towards his neck. He's got tufts of fur on his paws too, kinda like the socks on horses that Mick talks about sometimes when he's feeling nostalgic. His horns are slightly dull in color, curling backwards from his head, thin where his snout is wide.

Oh, and he's wearing  _glasses_. Yeah, Jax knows what glasses are: he wasn't kidding about Len loving to read. Especially out loud. Dude really loves the sound of his voice.

But anyway, there's a strange glasses-wearing dragon standing in the cave.

"Please," he says, "I mean you no harm."

Mick snarls. Len translates, "Shoulda thought of that before you landed here without permission. Senior citizens don't get a pass."

The dragon mumbles something. Then, he folds his wings and says, "I apologize. You must understand my haste: I have been looking for my godson for two years, and—"

Godson?

Godson...Gooooodsooon...

The happy bubble spits out the feelings of clan-Daddy-soldierfriend. A description of someone. Someone...who was...

Jax shoves at Len's wing. " _Grey_?!"

The dragon gives a violent start. "Jefferson?"

Len reluctantly lifts his wing. Jax bounds across the cave, skidding to a stop before Grey. He takes a tentative sniff; he couldn't smell back then, but the feelings that come with it are all too familiar.

"Grey!" he crows, "It's really you!"

Grey nuzzles him, "Oh thank goodness. When I went looking for you after the battle, you had disappeared!" he chuckles, "I thought your parents were joking when they said you thought of me as  _Grey_."

Jax scrambles onto his snout, snickering a little when Grey goes slightly cross-eyed to look at him. "I got adopted," he announces proudly, "Mick and Len over there took me into their clan. I just hatched, but it's been pretty cool. Right Len?"

Len doesn't laugh. Come to think of it, it's pretty quiet behind him. Confused, Jax looks over his shoulder.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

The largest dragon in the room, red and decked out in horns and spikes over serrated scales and an impossibly huge wingspan, narrows his eyes at Grey.

Jax hops back to the ground, wobbling a little as he trots back to Mick. He almost falls flat on his face when he pushes onto his hindlegs to reach up, but luckily Mick meets him halfway.

"What's up?" he reiterates.

Len and Lisa step forward. "I think your  _godfather_ wants to take you home," Len says. He's visibly tense, staring Grey down like he's a threat. Which, not cool, 'cause Grey's not so bad from what the happy bubble says.

Jax blinks. "But I'm already home."

Mick softens a little. Len smirks, "Well, you heard the kid."

Grey shifts behind him. "But, Jefferson—"

"I mean, you can visit, or move closer," Jax says, hopping onto Mick's offered paw so he can climb between his two biggest horns, avoiding the smaller ones by settling behind them. "But these guys are my dads, and Lisa over there's my sister. Come on, I just hatched! Shouldn't we be like, celebrating?"

He nuzzles Len's snout when the ice dragon pokes his head up.

Grey taps his talons on the cave floor. "Very well," he says at length, "we'll discuss is later."

"Nah," Jax grins, "pretty sure we just finished  _discussing_ , Grey. I'm hungry, by the way."

Mick snorts at Grey's withering look.

"Don't worry, darling," Lisa coos, "Lenny and I just went hunting."

"Awesome! Can Grey eat with us?"

Tense silence. Mick coils his wings in irritation, but Len tells Jax, "If you're between me and Mick, I sup _pose_ we can make an exception."

" _Nice_."

* * *

Grey—Dr. Stein, but Jax is gonna stick with Grey thanks—doesn't stop talking about his mate Clarissa and their  _lovely_ conglomerate. Their neighbors do sound fun, and Clarissa's cookies are apparently the greatest. Still, whenever Jax expresses an interest, Mick and Len glare at nothing while Lisa growls frost.

"Okay," Jax finally says, "fine. We'll  _discuss_ some more."

With a very determined hatchling as mediator, the dragons reluctantly work out a system. Jax gets to visit Grey, provided he's accompanied by at least one member of his clan, and Grey can visit so long as he calls beforehand—and yes, that means at least a day in advance,  _Stein_.

Sounds simple, yeah? You haven't dealt with dragons like Martin Stein. And you _definitely_ haven't dealt with dragons like Mick Rory and Leonard Snart.

Jax is barely out of the shell and he's already exasperated. Once she relaxes a bit, Lisa shares her sympathy.

Grey stalls as long as he can afterwards, and Jax knows it. He finally puts his little feet down and tells Grey he'll  _see him later, thank you_. 

Once the dragon's a speck in the setting sun, Jax's whole body shakes on a yawn. Kinida sucks actually, since he's only just started to take in the world. Still, he can't help follow Mick's direction as his massive red tail guides him to the spiked side.

Oddly comfortable, considering.

"Is your name really Jefferson?" Mick asks.

Jax yawns again. "I like Jax better," he says, "but yeah. Jefferson Jackson, that's me."

" _Jax_ ," Len purrs, "hello."

"Hey, Len."

Jax rolls around on his back, trying to get comfortable. Lisa eventually hands him some weirdly-shaped brown rock, rough and heated in Jax's talons.

"A piece of your shell," Lisa says, "it worked for me."

It really does. Jax totally and unabashedly cuddles his rock and trills up a storm under his dad's wing. So  _this_ is what a volcanic rock looks like. Cool.

Jax snorts.

"What's so funny?" Mick asks.

On the edge of sleep, Jax answers with a confusing, "Len's got bad jokes."

Lisa rolls her eyes, "Good night, Jax."

As Jax falls into a light doze, he hears Mick mutter, "What'd you do?"

Len huffs, "I didn't do  _anything_."

"How many fuck awful puns have you made around him?"

Lisa sighs, "You don't wanna know the answer, baby."

Mick snarls, "He's just a  _hatchling_ , Snart! How could you?"

" _Mick_."

Yeah, Jax thinks. This is a good start.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
